Хлоя Нейл: Some Girls Bite

“Shit,” I said, moving my left hand to the handle of the katana, and ignoring for the moment the fact that he had this information before I did. “I need to change.”

Catcher shook his head. “Today’s the day you bluff,” he said. “I’ll get your car ready.”

I stared at him. “Are you kidding? Ethan will shit if I show up dressed like this in front of other Cadogan vampires, much less other Houses.”

Catcher shook his head. “ You stand Sentinel, not Ethan. You do your job the way you do it. And if you’re going to bluff your way into keeping Ethan safe, would you rather do it in leather or a suit and prissy heels? You need to show teeth today.”

Because his words echoed my own thoughts, I didn’t argue.

He offered me advice via cell phone the entire ride to Cadogan House: Look everyone in the eye. Keep my left hand on the handle of the sword, thumb at the guard, and only pull the right hand over if I needed to be seriously aggressive. Keep my body between Ethan and whatever pointy thing—be it blade or teeth—was threatening him. When Catcher started to repeat himself, I cut him off.

“Catcher, this isn’t me. I’m not prepared for warfare. I was a grad student. But he gave me this job, presumably, after four hundred years of experience, because he thought I could bring something to the table, something he thought could trump my lack of training. I appreciate the advice, and I appreciate the training, but it’s the eleventh hour, and if I haven’t learned it by now, I’m not likely to learn it in the next five minutes.” I swallowed, my chest tight. “I’ll do what I can. It’s been asked of me, and I agreed to stand Sentinel, and I’ll do what I can.”

I decided to confess the thought that had tickled the back of my mind, but hadn’t yet voiced. That the vampire inside me had a mind of her own. That sometimes it felt like we hadn’t merged, not truly, but rather like she lived inside me.

Maybe because it sounded ridiculous, I found it harder to vocalize than I’d imagined. “I think—I think—”

“What, Merit?”

“She feels kind of separate from me.”

Silence, then: “She?”

He spoke the word as if it was a question, but I had the sense he knew exactly what I meant. “The vampire. My vampire. Me . I don’t know. It’s probably nothing.”

Silence again, then: “Probably nothing.”

Blocks passed, and then I was turning onto Woodlawn, cell phone still pinched between shoulder and ear.

“If you need to look threatening, can you silver your eyes? Pull down you fangs? On purpose, I mean?”

I hadn’t tried, but imagined I’d learned enough in the last week about what silvered my eyes to be able to manufacture the effect. Method vampirism, as it was.

“I think so, yeah.”

“Good. Good.” I pulled the car up to the curb in front of Cadogan House. There were no guards at the gate. The House looked empty, and that foretold nothing good.

“Shit,” I muttered and grabbed the door handle. “The House looks deserted.”

“Merit, listen.”

I paused, one hand on the door, the other wrapped around my cell phone.

“Cadogan House hasn’t had a Sentinel in two centuries. You got the job because he believed in you. Do the job. Nothing more, nothing less.”

I nodded, although he couldn’t see it. “I’ll be fine.”

Or I wouldn’t, I thought, as I threw the phone in the passenger seat, walked down the empty sidewalk, and tugged at the hem of the leather jacket I’d zipped over the midriff-baring bodice.

Either way, we’d find out soon enough.

The front door was partially ajar, the first floor empty of vampires. I heard rumblings upstairs and, with a hand on my sword, took the staircase. Luc stood on the landing, legs braced, arms crossed, a katana belted on his left side.

I gave him a nod, waited for him to look over my ensemble. When he’d taken me in, I asked, “Where are we?”

He inclined his head toward the ballroom, and we walked together toward it. His voice was all business. “Ethan tried to schedule a meeting about the murders. He invited representatives from Grey, Navarre. The meet was supposed to happen later tonight. Then the Rogues found out. Noah Beck—he’s their rep—showed up half an hour ago.”

A chunk of time had passed then, since the page. I did need to move into Cadogan House.

“They’re pissed about not being included,” he continued, his expression pulled tight, “about our existence being leaked—no, announced —to the press.” Clearly Ethan wasn’t the only one who doubted Celina’s decision making in that regard.

We stopped in front of the closed ballroom doors, and I planted my hands on my hips, slid him a glance. “How many?”

“Twelve Rogues, maybe thirty vamps from Cadogan. Scott Grey and four of his people; they showed up early for the meet. Lindsey, Jules, and Kelley are in there, but they’re hanging back.”

I lifted brows. “You ever think the ratio of six guards to three hundred Cadogan vamps ain’t quite right?”

“It’s peacetime,” he explained, irritation in his voice. “We hold too many swords, and we’re showing animosity, risking war.” He shrugged. “Too few, of course, and we risk a Rogue taking a shot at Ethan.”

It took me a moment to realize he wasn’t being metaphorical. “A shot? I thought vampires used blades?” I motioned to the katana at his waist, but he shook his head.

“That’s House Canon , tradition. Rogues reject the system, reject the pretense, the rules. They’ll have weapons. They’ve got their own Code, such as it is. They might have one blade visible, maybe more hidden. But they’ll have guns—probably handguns, probably semiautomatic. Probably a forty-five. They’re partial to the nineteen eleven.”

I nodded, remembering the picture I’d seen in a Kimber catalog in the Ops Room. That was all I needed—stray bullets flying around the room during my first real fight.

“I can’t defend shots,” I told him, belatedly realizing the weapon I was expected to use in a gunfight was my body—between Ethan’s and the racing bullets.

As if catching my concern, probably easy given the expression of sheer terror on my face, Luc offered, “Shots won’t kill him, unless they let loose a spray. Just do what you can. And one more thing.”

He paused so long I looked over, saw his brow furrowed.

“Your position,” he said, before pausing again, “it’s more political than ours. We’re considered field soldiers, even me. Sentinel’s still soldiering, but traditionally vamps see it as more of a strategic position. And that means more respect.” He shrugged. “That’s history, I suppose.”

“Which means,” I concluded, “I can get a little closer to him than you can. I’m less a declaration of war, more a show that the situation’s being taken very, very seriously.”

Luc nodded again, relief that I understood evident in his expression. “Exactly.”

I blew out a slow breath, trying to assimilate this new information—which would have been helpful before the crisis—and not panic at the pressure. I stroked my thumb over the handle of the katana, prayed for calm. Two weeks into vampiredom and I was being asked to defend the House against a band of marauding unHoused vampires.

Lucky me.

Not that it mattered. I had a job, and while I panicked at the thought of actually doing that job, doing it was the only thing I could do. Enter the fray, take the step, and bluff like my life depended on it. Because it probably did.

I accepted the tiny earpiece Luc offered, slipped it into my ear. “Let’s go.”

When Luc nodded, I took a breath, put my hand on the door, and opened it.